Brass Knuckles and Lace
by JasperKai
Summary: Jacob Frye is a young and daring assassin. Margaret is Henry Green's informant, and a working girl on the streets of London. What would happen if the two were to meet.
1. Chapter 1

This is the first fanfiction that I have ever written... I do not own Assassin's Creed all of that belongs to Ubisoft. Margaret is my own OC. Rated M for future chapters  
I am super open to working with people and bouncing ideas off of one another.

Enjoy!

Chapter One – Hazel

The train wheels clattered against the tracks as the iron horse charged through the city of London. Jacob Frye lay sprawled on his couch, turned bed, as he stared at the ceiling. His list of targets was practically nonexistent and Evie was supposed to be formulating a plan that apparently involved him. So… "He mustn't stray too far". The younger twin rolled his eyes with an unamused sigh as he tilted his head back on the arm of the couch, nearly hitting his head on the safe, just to gaze upon the mounted zebra head a few meters away.

"You understand my pain, don't you Stripes?" he asked the creature as if it would grace him with a response. Agnus had taken it upon herself to spruce up the interior and exterior of Bertha (The name Agnus has given the locomotive). It was technically her train after all but Jacob still wasn't sure how he felt about the zebra. He shifted to get a look at the antelope that loomed over his head. He wasn't sure how he felt about that one either. The first time he'd slept under their watchful eyes he'd nearly blown a hole in the wall with his revolver when he had awoken in the middle of the night.

He needed to be doing _something_. His newly acquired gang, The Rooks, could be out ridding the good people of London from the Blighters presence. It wasn't like him to wait around and get the "okay" from his sister but after his mishap with Pearl Attaway even he deemed it…wise. Besides…Roth had been particularly quiet as well. Why was it that everyone he knew was on a standstill?

The door to his car opened and he lazily turned his attention to who had walked in.

"Jacob I-," Before Henry could finish Jacob let out a groan.

"Perfect timing, Greenie. I was wondering where do you get all of your information? They seem to be _flooding_ your mail box with it." He threw his legs to the ground as he slouched back against his mound of pillows. "I'm so bloody bored."

With a laugh Henry pulled a piece of paper from his sash. "What splendid timing then! Your sister is still planning but in the mean time I have a job," The man blinked as the younger assassin made his way in front of him at an inhuman rate. "For you…to do…." His eyes squinted as he looked at the couch next to the safe to the small library area they found themselves in as if attempting to calculate what had happened. Mr. Green shook his head deciding figuring out Jacob's antics were not worth his time.

Jacob snatched up the paper with a childish grin. "Oh look at you, Greenie! Who am I gracing with the presence of my blade? Another doctor? Starrick's long lost son? One of the boatmen?" He flipped the paper around desperately looking for a name. Instead his brows furrowed in confusion as he was met with an almost blank piece of paper. One side had an assassin logo and Henry's signature scribbled next to it and that was all. What the devil?

"Not quite…I need you to pick up some information for me. Meet with Miss. Rogers in the alleyway next to the White Hare Pub on Fleet Street. Perhaps if you ask nice enough she might be able to fill your time."

Jacob's expression fell to one of annoyance. "…in other words I'm your errand boy now? No better than that of an urchin?" His lips twisted in slight disgust.

"You could decline, Mr. Frye and continue your time of loathing on the couch." Henry said with another smile knowing full well that the boy couldn't resist any form of action.

Jacob sighed and tucked the piece of paper into his jacket. "You drive a hard bargain…but fine…I'll do it." He scooped up his top hat, dusted it off, before placing it atop his head. "But you owe me something more exhilarating later!"

'What has Greenie gotten me into?' Jacob questioned himself as he drove his newly acquired carriage down the middle of Fleet Street. The road was littered with people clinging to rags as they moved from place to place. The young assassin was still trying to get a grasp on the lay of the land. London was so much larger than his hometown of Crawley. He'd grown up trained by the assassins as soon as he could walk. His grandmother had taken care of him and his older twin sister, Evie, until then. Their father, Ethan, talked often of the city. "The churning seas of London", he'd once said. Even when Jacob was out gambling and getting into fights he had his mind set on freeing London from Templar clutches…to prove his farther wrong. It was possible to take it back under Assassin control…if done correctly. The order never offered Henry Green any help and it had been their ticket into the city once they slipped on the train away from George.

A remembering smile toyed on the man's lips.

"Whoa girl! Whoa!" Jacob pulled back on the reins stopping the horse outside of the White Hare pub on the corner of Fleet Street. He cocked his head to the side as he scanned the street. He'd made it all the way here only to realize…he had no idea whom he was looking for other than a name. He hopped down from the driver's seat and placed a hand upon the horse's neck. "Well girl, you wouldn't happen to be able to point me in the right direction of a Miss. Rogers, would you?" He gave the horse another pat on the neck which replied with a snort. His lips pursed together before he nodded and headed off toward The White Hare.

Henry had told him to meet the woman next to the pub but…Jacob glanced down the alleyway between the two connected buildings. Instantly his eyebrows shot up to his hairline as his gaze fell upon one of the street walkers.

'Little early for them to be out.' He thought.

There was nothing wrong with a bit of…fun… in his book. After all he'd spent most of his youth surrounded in the darkness of the unground. The woman whistled and motioned for him to come over. Jacob's cheeks flushed, she'd notice. He offered a smile in her direction as he kindly refused. Perhaps another time. He took step toward the pub, maybe she was inside? She could have found the alley unsafe? Most of their contacts weren't fighters, excluding Henry. And even that was questionable at times. Blighters still had control of this area there were bound to have them lurking about.

Jacob stepped inside the White Hare his arms flicked at his sides as he straightened out his jacket. He quickly scanned the occupants, his stomach dropping as he noticed there were no woman amongst them. Damn. The bartender looked in his direction, clearly on edge. The assassin tossed a smile their way before slipping his way back out of the pub.

"Where the devil…?" His voice trailed off as he looked down the street. Was there another White Hare Pub on this street?

"Ya lost?" Jacob's head turned toward the owner of the voice. The prostitute from before offered a coy smile as she stepped closer only to lean against the side of the pub. Her blonde hair was pulled back in luxurious curls adorned with pearls and an elegant hat. Her body was tucked in a beautiful white corset that poked into her layers of skirts that were hiked up to show her dark stockings. "Maybe I can help you."

"I appreciate your generosity but I really must find this person." Absentmindedly he pulled the piece of parchment out from his jacket pocket and spun it around hoping that he'd missed some kind of description of the woman earlier...on the nearly blank piece of paper….

The girl caught sight of the paper before letting out another laugh. "So you're here for Mr. Green?"

Jacob's eyes narrowed as he looked at her once more. He never would have thought that Henry would associate with someone like her. Were they something before him and his sister had made it to London…?

Miss. Rogers laughed again. "You look like an awfully cute puppy with that baffled look on your face, _sir._ I am Margaret Rogers," she offered a curtsy in his direction. "I gather information for Mr. Green and I have not been able to meet with him for some time. I am assuming that you are here to collect?" Instead of allowing Jacob to answer she took a few steps back into the alley where she switched Jacob's parchment for a small handful of notes which she'd hid in her bosom. "Here."

Jacob cleared his throat as he pushed back his embarrassment, suddenly grateful his sister hadn't accompanied him. He took the notes Margaret held out to him. His head cocked to the side as he flipped through them. Many of the names he'd never heard of, even when Henry and his sister talked about the various Templars they needed to focus on in order to find the pieces of Eden. "Where in the name of the queen did you manage to dig this up?"

"Oh Henry didn't tell you?" She laughed again and shifted her weight to her other leg. "I'm sure a man as smart as you could figure it out. Then again," Her gaze flicked down to Jacob's boots before catching his hazel irises. "You did walk by me three times."

"To be fair! I wasn't expecting a woman of your-." Margaret gave him a look, the corner of her lips curled up in a smirk. "I wasn't expecting a dame as gorgeous as you!"

She took a step closer and patted his cheek. "Aren't you adorable, herrlich*."

Jacob's brows corked together. "I _beg_ your pardon?"

"Herrlich," She repeated. "Surely you've heard German before, no?" She waved her hand in the air, dismissing the rest of the questions. "Do not focus on it too much. We have business to attend to." Her legs carried her toward the carriage.

Jacob shook his head as he looked from the spot back to his new contact. Business? What business? As she crawled comfortably into the open roofed carriage Jacob found himself weighing out his options. From what Henry told him he was just supposed to be getting the information and leaving…as Stripes came to mind the man was quick to take the driver's seat of the carriage. He simply couldn't handle another moment being silently judged by stuffed animals.

"Where are we headed, madam?" Jacob questioned over his shoulder as he fixed the reins comfortably in his hands.

"Go straight and take the second right. There you should be able to find the man you are needed to tail." She crossed her legs and straightened her back tossing a playful smile to one of the men looking in her direction before continuing. "You do know how to follow someone, don't you?"

Jacob snorted. "You sound like my sister…."

"Sounds like she's a smart woman."

The assassin's mouth parted. One could almost see the gears clicking around in his head before he decided on, "Who is it that I am looking for?" He questioned while he gave the reins a practiced flick to get the horse to start walking. He decided it was best to bite his tongue in the presents of a lady.

"His name is Johnathon Markson. He's in the faction your order is fighting against. Someone that Miss. O'Dea has been personally looking to get off of the streets. He's known for kidnapping children and forcing them to work in many of the various factories that plague this city." She fiddled with the shul draped over her shoulders. "This is your right."

Jacob coaxed the horse into taking the turn they needed and happily complimented as they continued down the cobblestone road until they reached their given location. "Your stop, Miss."

" _Your_ stop, Mr…" Margaret's head tilted to the side in surprise as another laugh passed her red stained lips. "My apologies I never got your name?"

"The name's Jacob, Jacob Frye. Now why is this _my_ stop?" He turned his head only to find that Margaret had moved so that she was leaning toward the driver seat.

"It's your stop, Mr. Frye, because this is your job."

"I got all that but I would at least like it if you asked nicely." Jacob commented with a childish grin before he exited the carriage. "Now," He grabbed the horse's reins absently as he pet its snout. "Do we have a description on the man or am I simply going on my gut feeling?"

Margaret laughed as she walked toward the door of the carriage and for a moment found herself surprised as Jacob released the horse to get the door, and hold his hand out to her. Surely she'd had men do things for her before, but rarely was it out of kindness.

"What a gentleman." Her hand landed gracefully into his as she stepped out of the carriage.

"That I am." Jacob agreed with little shame.

"Now, find your man. I'll meet you at the pub down the way." She bowed her head before heading off in the direction of the pub.

"But Margaret you haven't told me a description!" Jacob called after the woman only to hear her laugh before turning on her heel and take a few steps backwards.

Margaret mimicked the motion of holding the side of jacket open and reaching into an inner pocket. "Oh, but I already have. You just need to find it."

And with that, she was once again making her way toward the nearest pub. Jacob watched the bottoms of her ivory colored skirts brush against the back of her thighs before he pulled himself to the moment at hand. He reached into his jacket and fished out the notes she'd given to him a few moments ago. As he flipped through them he wasn't exactly shocked to find the name of the man she had given him elegantly written next to a lovely portrait. Surely not on of Henry's works. The corners of his lips curled into a smile as his eyes trailed around the carefully placed lines of the portrait before glancing up in the direction his newest contact had walked off in.

*Herrlich – gorgeous


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two – Blue

Margaret slipped herself into the farthest corner in the back of the Queen's pub. She was not sure how she felt about sending a man she barely knew on a mission for the only assassin left in the City of London. It seemed like forever ago she had found out about the almost invisible war between the Assassins and Templars. She had been sitting in one of the many alleyways that graced the city. Cold, starving and alone, she had started to think that this was it. She had lost her job in the factory and found herself as one of the many prostitutes that littered the streets. Forced to pay off her debt that she now owed her procurer and what little money she made she sent straight home. She'd been sitting against the brick wall for some time and many people had passed her by without a second glance. Men might have whistled, and woman quickly guided their children by. She was not a role model, she was not someone to look up to. She was a whore. The last thing she'd expected was a man to stand in front of her, offering out his hand. He was clade in white and offered a warm smile. At first she had mustered the most flirtatious smile she could as she took his hand, even though her eyes gave her pain away. Only to have him reassure her, that was not what he was looking for. As anyone in her line of work would be, she was confused and pushed further into a state of shock as he proceeded to ask if she was alright. Before she could answer the man offered to buy her some food and a warm place to stay for the evening. From that moment on Margaret technically worked for the Assassins. Henry had shown her the kindness that no one else was willing to, and it gave her hope for humanity. She had a place to go if she needed somewhere fresh to rest her head, in exchange she offered the only thing that she could; information.

The woman shifted in her seat as she sucked in a breath of air, suddenly finding a deep pit of worry settling in her stomach. She should have met with Henry before she sent, whom she was assuming one of his trainees, on a mission. They would have been able to talk about the plan and who it was they needed to track down. Sure she had a name, a portrait, and other information sprawled out on the card she had passed on to the man, but she didn't feel like it was enough. Strange things were happening around London, the street gang that plagued London known as the Blighters, seemed to be disappearing in certain parts of the town. New gang members dressed in green and yellow were walking the streets, and she was unsure if they were friend or foe. Her fingers nervously played with the fringe of her skirts as she hazily stared out the window, her mind in a completely other realm. She felt the table shake as someone bumped it as they plopped down in the seat across from her. Margaret's lips began to part to begin her sentence to ward off her possible buyer.

"You know, this is actually quiet drinkable."

Confusion washed over her face as she stared at Jacob in the booth across from her. After taking a handful of large gulps from the iron pint he set it down on the table with a satisfied 'ah' passing his lips.

"Mr. Frye? Done already?" She asked while shifting herself closer to the table. How long had she been spacing?

"Who else would it be?" Jacob tossed her a charming smile before leaning his left arm onto the table, her eyes took in the gauntlet than decorated his arm suddenly more confused than she had been before. "Unless you're waiting for customers." The corner of his lip corked into a devilish smile that reached his eyes.

Suddenly any amount of confusion was replaced with slight annoyance. "Oh Mr. Frye, quite the jokester aren't we?"

"My apologies, madam. I will learn to watch my tongue around you." A hearty chuckle vibrated in his chest before he took another swig from his cup, disappointed to find he was met with an empty glass. His lips pursed together and he pushed it to the side of the table before he leaned closer to Margaret, for once keeping his words from any listening ears. "Mr. Markson goes to the Queen's Arms pub just aside Buckingham Palace in Westminster. All of them were dressed in the same yellow and black trimmed coats, I couldn't get any closer without an invitation or a set of breasts."

Margaret's head tilted to the side, her eyes subconsciously flicking out mindful of any possible spies wanting to listen in on their conversation. To play it up she reached her hand out and lightly brushed her fingertips over Jacob's arm, causing the assassin to look at her questionably.

"Sounds like a job well done indeed. I know of the pub which you are talking about. Anything else that you found out?" She questioned in a way that anyone listening in could mistake her tone for something a little more suggestive.

Jacob licked his lips and tossed and glance over at the bartender before his gaze fell back to the woman before him. "There is some kind of event taking place in the near future. I managed to smuggle a poster which I will give you later." His eyes flicked downward to her hand that was casually trailing up his forearm to his bicep.

Her free arm came up to rest her elbow on top of the table as her chin fell into her palm. "That sounds horribly exciting." She gave his shoulder a squeeze before slipping out of her side of the booth. She leaned down to whisper in Jacob's ear. "There is a man in the corner that keeps looking our way. Why don't you take me to Mr. Green and we can discuss your findings further?"

"Great idea…"

Margaret looked around nervously as Jacob lead her toward the train tracks, where on earth where they going? Normally when she met with Henry it was at the shop front he owned. It had been a few months since she had been able to make her way over to the building, but she had never needed a train. A simple ride on the bus or a walk did well. She'd tried to talk Jacob out of it but he insisted that he would take her to Henry. Now to hope that he was telling the truth.

"Now…you're going to have to trust me a bit on this one." Jacob stated as he walked closer to the train tracks. His eyes scanning the metal beast that was quickly making its way toward them.

Margaret tossed the assassin a skeptical look. "And I haven't given you enough trust as we made our way along the railroad tracks? What else are you going to have me do?"

"Well…" Jacob shrugged as if weighing his options in his head. "The train doesn't always stop and I wasn't paying attention when Evie was listing off the schedule…so we're going to have to jump on."

Margaret's jaw practically collided with the ground. "Are you mad?!"

"Slightly. Probably. I'm not entirely sure." The locomotive turned passed them his lips curled with excitement as the first train crossed in front of them. "Have you ever hitched a ride on a train before?"

"Are you crazy?! No! Verrückte Ficker*." Her eyes widened as he watched the train begin to pass in front of them. Jacob took a step closer toward the train, causing her to take a step back. What had she gotten herself into? Sure the train wasn't moving as fast as they normally would, but it was still madness!

"We have already gone over that!" Jacob laughed as he looked over his shoulder. "Do you trust me?"

The blonde looked down the tracks to the city below. What did she have to lose? She barely had any money to her name, if she missed the train she would be easily forgotten. Not that she would be die from missing a jump to a train, maybe a broken ankle… She shook her head. There is no way that she was going to believe a man she just met.

"I believe that you are on your own, Mr. Frye. I will go and find Mr. Green myself." She turned on her heel and began to walk to the nearest bridge, hoping that it would have some sort of ladder she would be able to take down to street level.

The assassin found himself confused. Torn between the ideas to jump onto the train and leave the woman behind was tempting but…he told her that he would take her to Henry. His body swayed toward Margaret. "Now…don't be like that. Henry is on the train. I can jump first and if you jump after me I can catch you. I promise."

"Jacob this is crazy!"

As the trains wheels clicked over the rails Jacob rolled his eyes as he cursed under his breath as the woman continued to walk toward the edge of the bridge. The window they had to catch the train was nearing its end and the last thing Jacob wanted to do was spend his day chasing down the train. He finally had a lead on what needed to be done around the city. But he would not be getting more information out of Margaret before she spoke with Henry.

"Well if you would excuse me…." He started as he reached out and grabbed her hand.

A mixture of shock and annoyance crossed her features. "I _beg_ your pard-."

Before she could scold him any further she found herself slung over his shoulder like a freshly slain deer. Her eyes widened in shock but everything happened too quickly for her to let out a scream. She hardly had the time to process what was happening and she watched as her destination got farther and farther away. Her lips parted as she began to question but she found herself gripping onto the leather of the man's jacket as her stomach flipped. For a split second…they were airborne.

"JACOB!"

She was going to kill him. She was not sure how, or when, but she was going to kill him.

Jacob jumped onto the train his free hand grabbed the rail on the last train car, the extra weight caused him to arch backward as his body tried to regain its balance. Margaret dug her nails into the middle of his jacket and gathered a fist full of fabric in the process. Once he gained his balanced he ducked into the inside of the train and placed the woman down, who promptly clung to him like a frightened cat.

"Well that is one way to get a woman to scream my name." His lips quirked into a smirk.

As her feet made contact with the ground, she became aware of her surroundings and anger quickly took over.

 _SMACK_!

Margaret turned on her heel and began to walk deeper into the train as Jacob's hand babied his, now red, cheek.

"I don't understand…what did you do with your shop?" Margaret questioned the Henry as he poured her a cup of tea. After slapping Jacob, the assassin who watched over London for years now had made his way to the train car. It did not take long for Henry to defuse the fire that was Margaret, much to Jacob's confusion, and bring them into the bar car for a drink. "Thank you." She whispered before taking a sip.

"I still own my shop in Whitechapel. The train was-." Before he could finish Jacob called from his spot where he was splayed on top of the bar.

"MY idea. If it wasn't for my Rooks we would have never gotten a hideout on the tracks." He held his cup out for Henry to refill.

The other assassin merely laughed. "Yes, yes. It was Mr. Frye's idea. He is the one who took down Kaylock when I could not."

Margaret's eyebrows shot up in shock. "Wait…Kaylock. The Blighter? The gang leader?"

Jacob smirked. "The very same."

Margaret placed her tea down on her platter before shaking her head. "Alright…I would like to rewind…. Your Rooks? Who are the Rooks? And how were you able to beat Kaylock? Aren't you just a trainee?"

Jacob choked on his tea as Henry winced. The man clade in white watched the other assassin cautiously. For as much as a child he could be…there were plenty of instances where his rash decisions got the better of him. The man was surprised when the younger male burst into laughter.

"Your _trainees_? Oh Greenie," His devilish smile returned to his lips. "What wild fantasies do you spin?"

"Me?" Henry questioned but before he could continue Jacob cut it, again.

"Does pretending to take credit for my accomplishments make you that much more alluring to," His hazel irises shot over to Margaret. "Women?"

Margaret and Henry's cheeks flared red. Both of them nervously stuttered over their words quickly shooting down what Jacob was obviously implying.

"I didn't peg you as the type for calling upon a ladybird**." As Jacob pushed his limits Margaret's look seemed to sour and Henry gave the younger assassin a questioning look. "Oh don't look at me like that," He took a sip of his tea. "Men have to have their outlets…so they say."

As if on cue to dig her brother out of another hole Evie walked onto the cart. Shocked to not be met by the normal Rooks who frequented the train the older twin tossed a questioning look to the group. Her head cocked to the side as she caught sight of Margaret.

"Uh…hello there." She began as she tossed Jacob and Henry yet another look.

Jacob shrugged his shoulders an went back to drinking his tea, content with letting Henry take care of introductions.

"Hello Miss. Frye," Henry began with a smile as he moved to place the teapot down alongside Margaret. "This is Miss. Rogers she is gathers most of the intelligence we use."

Evie's gaze turned to Jacob's only to catch her younger brother mouthing, 'lovers' in her direction. The emerald eyed beauty shook her head in annoyance before turning her attention back to the new comer.

"Pleasure to meet you, Miss. Rogers." She said while holding her hand out to the other woman.

Margaret offered a nod, while taking her hand. Silence fell between them all for a moment before the blonde broke it.

"Can we get back to who these 'Rooks' are?" She questioned.

Evie rolled her eyes. "Oh not this again. The Rooks happen to be my brothers newest hair brained schemes."

"Excuse me, Evie! You have stood by me after we have freed up some of the boroughs. You should be honored that I allowed you to tack your name on to my gang." Jacob grinned as he straightened himself with a prideful grin.

Margaret covered her mouth to cover up a laugh as Evie tossed the nearest thing she could find at her brother.

"Anyway," Evie said while attempting to ignore Jacob. "Seeing as that my brother has never really been good with formalities…What other questions did you need answered?" She took a seat across from the woman.

Margaret caught Jacob's glare toward his twin before leaning against the wall of the bar. She took another sip of her tea as she mulled over what she wanted answered. Evie seemed to be the more calculative of the two, but both of the twins were certainty about getting things done.

"The Rooks are your gang. And both of you are assassins. Are you Mr. Green's underlings?" She questioned.

"Well…yes and no. Mr. Green certainly has more standing with the brotherhood. They entrusted him with taking care of the city of London. My brother and I are from the branch in Crawley. Our father was the head of the order...before he passed away. We came to London to help get the city of light back under the assassin's control." Evie paused for a moment, calculating if she had given the proper amount of information and what needed to be added on.

Margaret nodded as she re-crossed her legs causing her skirts to rustle against the booth. And here she thought this would be a normal day…. Evie looked over at Henry as if waiting for him to explain how he had become acquainted but the man was surprisingly quiet. He knew everything there was to know about the city, who they could contact where they needed to go and yet he remained silent. Evie offered a nod before straightening her back. The silence was finally broken as a Rook entered the cabin.

Instantly, Jacob perked up and swung his legs over the edge of the bar, managing to not knock anything over in the process.

"Evening Gunther! Have any news for me?" Jacob questioned with an excited grin.

"That we do, Mr. Frye. Roth has called for you. We're not sure what he wants." Gunther said while offering a nod to the others in the room.

"Well best not keep him waiting!" Jacob said while jumping down from the bar and placing his hat on top of his head.

Evie's eyes quickly flashed with worry as she turned in the booth to look at her brother. "Jacob, I thought I told you that conversing with Roth was a ludicrous idea. Father would-."

"Well lucky for you, Father is dead!" Jacob tossed a seething grin as he started walking backward toward the next door. "Pleasure meeting you, Miss. Rogers."

And with that he was gone.

* Verrückte Ficker – crazy fucker

**Lady Bird – Prostitute.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3 – Emerald

"He is going to get himself killed." Evie grumbled as she picked up a second cup of tea. Margaret had gotten off at the first stop Agnus pulled the train into after Jacob had made his grand exit, leaving the two assassins behind.

"Miss. Frye…I think you are over reacting…" Henry said while offering a warm smile. "Your brother has taken care of himself."

"I really don't believe so. He is rash decisions and thick skull is going to be his demise." The woman gave her tea a spin with her spoon before taking a sip and recollected herself. "Father would not approve of him running about London like he owns the place. Taking it back from the Templars is one thing."

"But I am sure your father would be pleased with what job _you_ have been doing."

Silence fell between the pair as Henry's words sank into the woman. A small smile pulled on her red lips as she leaned back into her chair.

Perhaps the man was right. She had every right to worry but attempt to make her brother see her way was nearly impossible. It was tiresome to continue to clean up after his messes but at least she was tracking down he pieces of Eden to further the Brotherhood's cause.

Henry was right, her father would be proud.

\- Blue -

This was the life that she led.

Margaret bit the inside of her lower lip as she walked into the decrepit old the building it was tucked in the back of a long forgotten alleyway. The floral wallpaper was flicking off of the walls of the living area, where girls were sprawled out. The brothel was lively tonight packed with flesh from wall to wall and bosoms free of any cloth. The blonde slipped into the backroom quickly walking through the alleyway that led her into their other building. It was just as the main work building and stuffed with just as many women. Madam Lillian ran the whole place and siphoned most of the earnings…. Margaret was only 15 when she found herself traveling from Germany West to the City of London. Her mother was ill and there were rumors that her father was alive and well in the bustling city…it was just her luck that she was unable to locate the physical man and heard tales of he had long since passed away… Without any money to make her way back to her mother's side she did everything in her ability to earn an honest living. She worked as a housemaid for a wealthy family in Westminster. The Mrs. didn't trust her from the very start…Margaret kept to herself and did what chores were asked of her but the Mrs. still did not feel at ease. Just under a year the Mrs. spread rumor after rumor about Margaret until she was ultimately fired with no hope of being hired as a housemaid anywhere else.

Or so she thought…. One night after sitting down in an alley over ridden with defeat from another failed interview, a woman walked up to her. Tall with a blessed form, sauntered up to her with a carefree smile. Margaret was certain that she was looking for someone else and was surprised to find the woman crouching down to her level. She offered her a job, a place to stay and more money than she would know what to do with. Desperate and alone, Margaret had no other choice but to accept. At first she started off as a housemaid, Stella often reminded her of how lucky she was that she found her in the alley. Margaret couldn't agree more. She did not mind working in the brothel, cleaning up after the woman, taking down information of clients that walked through the door. Secretary work. But it wouldn't last.

They were busy one night. It had happened before. Lillian told her that some of the men wanted to sleep with her. Margaret refused, stating that she was just the housemaid. Months went by and she found it harder and harder to continue her refusal. She was not going anywhere and Lillian had a way with words that made her feel like she wasn't human. One day…she cracked. She took up one of the clients offers, and Lillian made a pretty penny off of the virgin.

It wasn't long after that Margaret became one of the top earners, but not for the reason most believed. Roth, the leader of the Blighters, bought her off to become exclusive for the Blighters and any Templars that found their way over to their designated meeting grounds. Two years later, here she was.

Margaret sighed as she walked into her room, heels clacking on the worn wood floor. She sank into the seat in front of her vanity as her head fall into her hands. Her mind wondered back to her newest acquaintances. Jacob and Evie Frye. Evie seemed…calculative, untrustworthy of her, and smart. She had a motherly aura mixed with the curiosity of a child. Emerald eyes that cut into someone's very soul and yet she was caring. Willing to help any who needed it. Everything that she did was with purpose. And her brother…. Margaret turned her head to the side, her hand covered her mouth as her eyes fell half lidded in thought. He was…gorgeous for starts. She found herself wondering where he got the light scar that cut through his right eyebrow or the one that graced his left cheek. His hazel eyes were filled with curiosity and ambition. He was charming in his own way, yet rough like an uncut stone that found its way into a field of shined diamonds.

The woman gave her head a shake. They were, for all intense and purposes, business partners. She would get information from the Templars like always and pass it on to the Frye twins or Henry. Whomever she saw first.

"Even if he is lovely." She muttered to herself with a small smile.

No matter. She looked at her reflection in the mirror. Her hair was a mess and the pearls that adorned her pale locks were lose and all but falling out. Her dress needed cleaning and she was nothing close to an upstanding model. That's what an assassin would want? Someone that he could-. She quickly shook her head. Again…this is not where her mind needed to be.

She undressed herself and went to draw herself a bath in the common area.

Margaret was pleased to find the bathhouse surprisingly empty there were a few girls getting ready in the next room. She could hear them giggling and talking about some of their latest clients. The blonde's lips curled into a small smile as she overheard bits and pieces of their conversation. It was a hard job, but the other girls stuck together like family. She crossed her legs over the side of the tub as she worked the soap into her hair. Days of muck and grim pooled into the water, which quickly took on the color of dirt. Her smile fell as the door opened and her pale blue irises flicked over to who had entered the room. Stella. The woman's curved formed was bare except for the robe that was falling apart at the seams. Her brown locks were tossed up into a lazy bun and she walked as if she owned the place, she practically did.

"Oh hellllo Margaret darlin', enjoyin' the bath?" She questioned with half lidded eyes as she began to fill the bath closest to the other.

Margaret mustered up a smile as she sat herself up after she'd rinsed the soap out of her hair. "That I am, Stella. It's been quiet relaxing. Just what I needed."

The brunette dropped her robe and placed a hand under the water running out of the faucet. "Oh rough client there, honey?"

"No, not a rough client. Well," She paused a moment as she tried to figure out how to bring up her newly acquired acquaintances. Her pink lips parted but Stella promptly cut her off.

"Let me guess, darlin'. Ya find ya self dreamin' about anotha man that didn't want to bed you?" She popped her hip out as she leaned against the tub.

Well…that's one way to explain it she supposed. "Not exactly… But there is a man I met today-."

"Oh a new workin' man? Or one of those business men?"

Margaret shuffled in the tub as she mulled over how to answer the question. The corners of her lips curled into a smile as she imaged Jacob dressed like a banker. His suit disintegrated into the trench coat he wore today with his black vest and lazily unbuttoned dress shirt. As if he knew just how tempting the extra skin was. One could argue that he was a business man of sorts…he was the leader of the Rooks. He had to pay people to keep them on his side and the group seemed to like him from the small interaction she witnessed with him and Gunther. There were so many blanks she couldn't fill in and just had to hope she was guessing correctly.

"Honey…?" Stella questioned after a moment of fallen silence.

Margaret's cheeks dusted red. "Sorry, I'm trying to find the right words…" She crossed her arms over the edge of her tub while her gaze etched Jacob's portrait into the wooden floor. "He's…a business man of sorts. His mind is set on the objective at hand that I feel like he looks right through me. But there's something about his antics that are surprisingly…charming."

Stella laughed as she turned the faucet off and lowered herself into the filled tub. "Sounds like you're lustin' pretty hard of him."

Margaret laughed as she stepped out of the tub. "Forbidden fruit is always the most tempting."

As the blonde walked back to her chambers she found herself wondering what she was getting into. Now that Stella knew there was someone that she was interested in, the woman was never going to drop it. And if Lillian was to find out the Madam would scold her for putting her interests in the way of earning money.

She gave her head a shake as she slid onto the redlined seat in front of her vanity. The mirror was cracked and the women found herself frowning as she looked at her reflection. Even if the Gods themselves intervened…she was a whore and that's all he'll ever see.

[[authors note: thank you for the reviews! Especially the ones with help for grammar. It is one of my weaknesses. I really appreciate the help. :) I have been busy but I am attempting to get the next chapter out soon.]]


	4. Chapter 4

[[Authors Note: Thank you in advance for reading! Work has been crazy and taken me away from writing…I will be trying to post more frequently.]]

Chapter 4 – Hazel

"Do you hear yourself talk, Evie?" Jacob questioned his older twin as he crossed his arms over his chest.

"Oh piss off, Jacob." Evie commented as she turned her attention back to fixing the training dummy. She had stumbled across a book of different fighting techniques. Most were with the weapon Henry had gifted her and her brother when they first made it to London. She was in the process of explaining the best technique to use when Jacob had cut the dummy down.

"I am not entirely fond of that idea…" He rubbed the back of his knuckles along his jaw line as he twirled the kukri in his other hand. "You're not going to learn how to fight from reading from a book." He tapped the hard over of her book with the side of the blade. "I have cut enough men with it, already. I don't see why we need to train on that sack of hay and canvas."

Evie's shoulders rolled backward as she drew in a deep breath. "Because Jacob," She raised to her full height. "Using the weapon and using the weapon correctly, are two entirely different things."

"But if both lead to getting the job done" Jacob turned and chucked the blade at the dummy's head causing a satisfying amount of hay falling out of the seams. The assassin's lips corked into a grin. "What does it matter?"

Evie pinched the bridge of her nose as her chest filled with an annoyed breath. Her younger twin offered another crooked smile in her direction.

The back door of Henry's shop opened to reveal the older man holding a tray of sandwiches and tea. When they weren't hiding out on the rails they returned to Henry's shop front. They had turned the tight alleyway into a small training area. Fighting on their train was cramped and nearly impossible. Besides, Agnus threated to throw them (Jacob), into the Thames. The bar cart already suffered its fair share of abuse from the Rooks and their leader.

"I thought the two of you would be hungry." Henry said with a smile to the siblings as he placed the tray on top of a nearby crate.

Evie's eyes lit up as she heard the door open. Almost instantly the annoyance her brother caused was free from her features. "Thank you so much, Mr. Green. That's awfully kind of you."

"Can you say it any louder, Evie? I'm not sure he heard your pants dropping from here." Jacob muttered in his sister's direction, which only received a glare. Which he proceeded to ignore. "Yes, thank you Greenie!" He snatched up a sandwich and plopped down on one of the many containers that littered the alley.

"It is my pleasure. How goes training?" Henry questioned.

Evie walked over and grabbed a sandwich half. "Training goes well," Her eyes shot over to her brother. "for those of us that are actually willing to learn."

Jacob unsheathed his kukri and pointed it toward Evie as he spoke with a full mouth, "Like I said before…what does it matter if it gets the job done anyway?" He leaned over and snatched up her other half of the sandwich with the blade.

"Anyway," Evie shook her head and turned her attention back to Henry. "Did you ever find that book you were talking about?"

"I knew I was forgetting something! One moment!" With that he slipped back into his store front.

As the door closed Evie's head snapped in her brother's direction. "Do you have to be such an imbecile?" Jacob stopped mid-chew to give her a questioning look. "Father was right; you do not think anything through."

Jacob rolled his eyes. "If he is so right, why don't you and him go have a little chat, hmm?" He took a sip of his tea.

Silence fell between the siblings. Jacob rolled his shoulders back as his gaze focused on tattered newspaper clippings tacked onto the wall.

Since they were young Evie and Jacob were the perfect team. Brains and Brawn. Evie grew up learning underneath their father, Ethan. She practically had the history of the creed memorized by age ten. Jacob was not one for books and often slept through the readings his father assigned. An assassin was supposed to kill their target and get out. As long as they got their mission done…what methods mattered? When his father was alive, Ethan compared Jacob to a young Altair. He had hoped that something would change in his mind to make him see what it was to be an Assassin…instead of a restless child.

The door opened for a second time. This time, Henry held a worn leather book gingerly in his as he stepped into the alley with a smile toward Evie.

"We have a visitor," The assassin stated as he revealed Margaret standing behind him. The prostitute offered the siblings a wave with a small smile. Evie mustered up a smile of her own, while Jacob readily grinned at her. Henry walked to where Evie was sitting and held the book out to her. "This is the book I was talking about, Miss. Frye."

Evie took the book excitedly after she returned her tea cup to its saucer. She examined the cover and the binding before flipping open to the first page where she was greeted with elegant Italian scrawled on the ivory paper. "I don't believe this," She whispered almost to herself as she carefully turned to page. "Where did you find Claudia Auditore da Firenze's journal?"

While the two book worms discussed how Henry managed to find the journal of Ezio's sister Margaret sashayed her way over toward the dummy. Her emerald skirts brushed against white lace stockings that tucked into her heels, which kicked at some of the straw that littered the ground.

"Did you kill it, liebling*?" She tossed a teasing smile over at Jacob.

Jacob sat up with a grin. "But of course I did! He was coming after me like a wild hog. I was scared for my life!"

"Oh?" She crossed her arms over her chest as she leaned closer to him. "How did you _ever_ survive?"

"It was a miracle I came out unscathed! I slipped under his arm and quickly grabbed my blade and made a sheath out of its skull."

"What a _brave_ man."

The two smiled at one another before dissolving into a fit of laughter.

"So," Jacob leaned against the wall behind him after stealing another sandwich slice from the tray. "What brings you down to Henry's shop?"

The first time that they met Margaret had mentioned she hadn't been able to catch up with the assassin in quiet some time and now she had been around almost frequently. Jacob's lips curled. It's not like he was complaining. At least he had something pretty to look at while his sister and Henry gushed over some old tome.

Margaret shifted her weight against the nearest crate. "Well, I found some new leads while working. It seems that there is a new drug that the Templars are spreading around the city."

"New drug? You mean the syrup? I already got rid of what Starrick was spreading around the city! Seems like your information isn't as up to date as we thought." Jacob said with a teasing smile.

"Oh you did? I had no idea. Then the one that is being spread through the fight clubs is all taken care of?"

Jacob's head cocked to the side. "Fight clubs? It's spreading through the fight clubs?"

"Apparently," Margaret shrugged as she crossed her arms over her chest. "But you would know everything about it because you already taken care of it, right?" Her lips curled into a playful smirk.

The assassin licked his lips. If he asked any more questions surely she would piece together that he did not know what she was talking about (not like she already had)…but if he acted like it was the same drug and it continued to spread…he would be caught as a liar. If he did pry for more information, he would have another target to introduce his blade to.

Jacob popped himself off of the crate. "If it's spreading through fight clubs…then I think it's time that we go pay a visit to Mr. Topping!"

"So, what you're saying this _is_ a different drug?" She tilted her head to the side, her curled dirty blonde hair fell over her shoulder.

"What I am saying is," He leaned down toward her with a point toward the sky with a nod of his head. "There might be something to look into. Annnnd I am never going to turn down a chance to visit a prize fighting ring." His lips curled into his signature devilish smile. "I'm a beast in the ring."

"Cocky are we?" She questioned with a teasing look. The assassin's lips corked to the side in another smirk as his eyes narrowed like a wolf who had just locked on to his prey. His glaze flicked downward. His tongue ran over the bottoms of his teeth before resting on his canine as his eyes met with Margaret's soft blue irises once more. The woman's lips parted. "Jacob Frye!" She exclaimed as she shoved Jacob's shoulder.

"But darling, I didn't say anything!" He returned his kukri to the sheath on his thigh just before taking a step toward the street with a laugh. "Because it was far too easy. Now, shall we?"

\- Blue -

Margaret looked around confused as she found herself being lead toward a beautiful green colored building. Her heels clicked against the cobblestone alleyway as her eyes followed a woman in a royal blue dress fit for a ball. She had been on the streets of Westminster before. However, it was usually during the early hours of the morning or passing through in a carriage. It was mesmerizing to the blonde how much lighting could change so much.

"Here we are~!" Her host sung as they came to a stop in front of a very plane looking door.

"This is it…?" She questioned.

"This is it." Jacob grinned at his guest as he opened the door.

Almost instantly the sounds of the lively street were left behind as the shouts and chaos of the fight club washed over them like a great wave. The prostitute's face fell in disbelief as she attempted to take in what was around her. The wood-lined walls practically glowed in the gas lights. British flags hung proudly from the ceiling as they watched over the large ring that sat in the center of the building. People crowded around the ring, fighters and observers looking equally as ready to jump in! As they walked down the oak staircase Margaret's lips pulled into a childish smile. Even more people were huddled tight against a bar, where booze and money flowed freely.

The male took a few steps in front of her and turned around while holding his hands up in the air. "So, what do you think?" He questioned while attempting to contain his excitement.

"This is amazing! I always heard that the fighting rings were more…decrepit." She tried to keep her attention on the man who had brought her here…but found herself bobbing to get a better view of the fight happening behind him.

"Well…mostofthemare..." Jacob mumbled quickly before clearing his throat. "I thought I should ease you into the glorious world that is the underground! And the payout is better here, anyway."

"The payout?" She questioned over her shoulder as her legs carried her toward the ring. "Who are you planning on betting on?"

"Betting on?" His laughter caused the woman to turn around with a quizzical look.

"If it isn't Jacob Frye! Oh-Ho-Ho! Splendid!" An odd little man exclaimed as he slipped away from the chalk board and excitedly grasped the taller man's hand.

"Topping! Good to see you!" The assassin greeted with a smile.

"I do hope that you are planning on getting into the ring," He leaned closer and covered his mouth in an attempt to quiet his words. "Between you and me I was starting to get bored! These men fight no better than the children in the streets!" The colorful man straightened, causing his large top hat to wobble. "Care to test your luck in the ring, good sir?"

"But of course! Just give me a moment, Topping." Jacob pulled his attention back toward Margaret.

" _You_ are going to fight?" She questioned in shock.

"Did you really peg me for a chap that sat back and watched?"

"No, not exactly. I thought your 'beast' comment was a bluff."

"Well, it is a great way to make money…and I will happily prove you wrong. So here's what we are going to do." He gingerly placed his hand on her lower back and guided her toward a pillar. "You are going to take this," He slipped her a coin purse stuffed with shillings. "and give it to the man who is behind me over my right shoulder."

Margaret's eyebrows raised in shock. She messed with the coin purse as if she was attempting to count just how much coin lined its insides. Her eyes darted in the direction of the man Jacob mentioned. "The one with the blue ribbon lining his hat?"

"The very same!" Jacob nodded.

"You brought me here…to bet on you?" She questioned with a teasing look. Something that as becoming very common when she was with him.

"No, I brought you here because you had a lead on a drug. But why not make some good coin while we're at it?" He tossed a wink in her direction.

"Perfect." She adjusted her corset to stuff the coin purse among her bosom. "You get into the ring and I'll place the bet. You just have to be sure to win."

He took a step back while holding his arms out with a confident look. "Are you doubting me?"

"I have only seen your handy work on straw dummies. How am I supposed to know you're any good against the living?" She tossed another teasing smirk in his direction.

"If that's the case, how about a kiss for good luck?"

To Jacob's surprise Margaret took a step closer and rested her hand on the assassin's bicep to balance herself. She leaned up and placed a kiss on his unscarred cheek. "Viel glück**, Jacob" As she pulled herself away the blonde purposely trailed her fingertips down the length of his arm.

His surprised expression rapidly melted to a brutish smirk. He hadn't expected that to work.

*Liebling – darling

** Viel glück – Good Luck


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5 – Blue

"I would like to wager this coin purse on the new guy who just entered the ring!" Margaret stated excitedly as she held the coin purse over to the man wearing the blue lined hat.

The wall of a man gave the blonde a look as his bruised eyes looked at the what was being offered to him. She could practically see the gears turning in his head as he snatched it up and quickly began to count the coins that lined the bag. As paper pounds and coins continued to pile up the man's eyes only widened and his jaw began to fall slack with disbelief. The muscles in his neck twitched and he returned the coins to the purse followed by ripping off a ticket with her placed bet.

"There you go, miss. Best of luck to ya." The man offered her a tip of his hat as she pinched the ticket out of his grasp.

The prostitute slipped the piece of paper where she kept anything valuable and made her way over to the crowd that surrounded the fighting ring. Her chest was full of fluttering butterflies with each flap of their wings caused her stomach to churn in excitement. She had never been to a prize fighting ring before but the stories she heard had always been fascinating. There had been plenty of costumers that came in beaten and bruised that wanted to be babied. As she pretended to care for their wounds they often boasted about how they were lucky to leave the ring alive. In her mind the rings were always in these seedy locations and she was pleasantly surprised that as least one ring existed in such a regal part of town. Everyone had the right to this kind of entertainment. There was nothing quite like watching men beat each other into a coma. Her heels clicked against the wood floor while she glanced over the names on the chalk board behind Robert Topping. A soft smile played on her lips. The chalkboard was filled with names and bets listed right next to them. If all went well, they would surely make a killing.

 _And Jacob knew it._ The corners of her lips turned up into a smirk. He might have been part of the assassin order but he was just as wild as an alley cat.

Her eyes wondered up the wooden column to the balcony. For a fleeting second she thought about finding a spot up there but what would the fun in that be? Too many drunks and too many people grabbing at her to have 'her do her job' at least down here it seems like people's attention was captivated on the fight about to take place. She wormed her way through the crowd until she found a place right outside of the ring. In the middle of the ring Jacob lazily stretched out his arms. His knuckles were wrapped with a white bandage, his chest bare, and his pants changed to ones full of patches. Margaret couldn't help herself and allowed her gaze to take him in. He looked smaller without his popped collar of his jacket masking the size of his shoulders. She had seen him without his top hat before but he was usually sitting down. Now that he was standing in the middle of the ring he seemed the size a dwarf. His lips were corked into his devilish smile while his eyes darted around. Looking for his first target.

Topping worked the crowd trying to get willing men to crawl into the ring making promises that the police would not know of their actions.

Margaret found herself closing on the edge of the fighting ring. Her heart was pounding in her chest and no one else had entered the ring. She could see why people were addicted to this place the continuous change in line up as to who will make it on top and every fight had a different outcome. Nothing seemed to be predictable. The blonde rested her hands on the edge of the fighting ring, her fingers curled around the worn line of the canvas. Jacob's body tensed as he turned his attention to the man climbing into the ring.

His first opponent.

Somewhere in the background Topping bellowed, "A fine challenger!"

The next thing she knew Jacob was lazily dodged the man's punch. He lunged to the left causing the man's fist to whiz passed Jacob's ear. The assassin bared his teeth and he shifted his weight quickly to collided his knuckles with his opponent's jaw. There was a sickening crack that sounded but was quickly covered by the roar of the crowd. Jacob bounced back with a heavy step his arms hanging almost lazily at his sides once more, instead of blocking his face like most fighters. He stood like an open target tricking whoever walked into the ring that he had is guard down. Margaret found herself on her toes moving with the ropes to catch sight of the fight within the ring. One by one men climbed into the ring to challenge Jacob. Margaret's fits found their way in front of her bosom as she bounced excitedly at the edge of the ring. Her voice became one of many people cheering for who they wanted to win.

Jacob snapped the bones of every challenger who entered the ring. Round, after, round, Topping raised his hand in victory.

"Would anyone else like to challenge this beast in the ring?" Topping exclaimed as Jacob rolled neck and shoulders.

Margaret's lips quirked to the side as her brows narrowed into a knowing look. At least she knew Jacob's beast comment had not been from his own imagination. Though, it did not mean he argued with Mr. Topping's statements.

Any thought of teasing Jacob fell to the back of her mind as men, three times the size of the brunet entered the ring. The bald gorillas growled threats at the assassin as they closed in on their target. Their red pants were stained, an obvious sign they frequented the ring. Jacob kept his hands at his sides, his head cocked to the side ever so slightly as he took in his surroundings. His assailants thought they had him. As the man to his left pressed charged, his lips curled and suddenly everything happened in a blur. Jacob dodged his first punch, similar to the first man, ducked inward and delivered a proper blow to the inside of his arm. He was small enough that he could fight in close quarters without giving them too much of an advantage. With a turn he placed another punch on the inside of their other arm just before reaching up and jabbing his thumbs into the man's eyes and pulling his head down toward the ring. The man let out a cry but found himself hunched over in a daze. The boys smirk spread into a matured grin as he rendered the second man in a similar state. With a quick side step back to the right he punched the man, causing him to stagger backwards. He kicked his opponents' knees apart and did not even watch him collide with the canvas floor. Within a second Jacob had targeted the other, his booted foot crashed into the man's right knee cap. He fell forward allotting Jacob the time he needed to stomp on his other knee. As the man began to fall to join the other onto the ground Jacob used the momentum to spin kick the man into the jaw. Which redirected his course and left the wounded man splayed on his back.

Margaret's soft blue irises sparkled with long lost enthusiasm. She was unsure what she had expecting the rings to be like but it was far more than what she could have.

Jacob wiped the corner of his mouth with his blooded bandages, doing little to clear the sweat and blood that speckled his skin. His hair fell lazily in front of his face as his eyes darted toward the other side of the ring. Three more men climbed between the ropes.

"I'm gonna knock your teeth in!" One exclaimed.

Which received a chuckle from Jacob. "I would pay to see you try, mate!" He commented as he grabbed the man's punch, snapped his elbow and clothes-lined him.

\- Hazel –

"We have a winner!" Topping exclaimed as he hoisted Jacob's arm up into the air. Anyone could see he was mentally counting up the dollar signs in his head. The assassin laughed softly as he spat blood from his mouth; one of them had managed to get a lucky shot.

As Topping lowered Jacob's arm he began to instruct where to collect the prize money. Instead of rushing over to collect it he found Margaret in front of him.

Her lips parted as she mentally shuffled through her vocabulary and attempted to pluck the right words to piece into a sentence. "That was amazing!" Adrenaline coursed through her veins. Her eyes darted from the ring, to some of the men that limped out of the building, and back to Jacob. "Erstaunlich!*" She repeated in her mother tongue.

Jacob's eyes scanned over her with sheer amusement as he gathered the clothes he had worn here. Since he frequented the rings so often, he usually kept a pair of pants at their venue. Most people did not question appearance when it came to other people wondering the streets of London but Evie won their fight when it came to reasoning fight-clubs. They were illegal throughout the city (as well as their job) and they both agreed it was wise to be discreet about some things…some times.

He remembered the first time he had found himself looking in on a fight. He was ten. Their father had assigned a reading on bombs and what components they needed to construct the different types. Instead of reading the guides Jacob had slipped out of the house and went down to the shed a block over. Many of their Brotherhood frequented the prize-fighting ring in hopes to bring some money back to the Creed. Jacob had heard stories from the other men but never could have dreamed what a magical place it had really been. He had climbed up into the rafters were hay and was usually stored and watched the fight happening below. Of course, he was quickly caught by George who brought him back to his house to receive a proper scolding. For as strict as the man was, his mentor would never admit to attending any of the fights.

Watching Margaret attempt to whole heartedly reenact the rounds caused Jacob's chest to flutter with a distant memory.

"So I take it you enjoyed yourself?" He questioned as he began to button up his shirt, he had missed a button in the process causing the shirt to lay lopsided.

The blonde's usual sarcastic comment was lost as she swayed closer to Jacob but her gaze fell upon the ring once more. Her red stained lips were parted in a crooked smile of bewilderment. Words had escaped her. He could not help but mentally question what else she was thinking about.

His hand clamping onto her shoulder pulled her back into reality, if only for a moment. Jacob leaned toward her with a smile. "Before I lose you again let us collect our winnings and I'll treat you to a meal," His legs began to carry him toward the man with the blue ribbon hat as his hand thumped his stomach. "I am starving!"

As the pair made their way to one of the pubs Margaret continued to ask how Jacob had learned how to fight. It initially came as a strange question. He literally was born into a world of war where it was learn how to fight or die at the hand of your enemy. Certainly, there was more to it than to defend oneself against your attackers. There were rules and regulations but…who had time to remember all of that?

Nothing is true, everything is permitted.

That was the motto of their Creed. Their guidelines. Evie often rolled her eyes and huffed in his direction when he quoted these words at her along with his defense. She stated that the words meant much more than what they were on the surface. Jacob brushed it off as just another thing his sister over thought. She had a nasty habit of quoting their father's words at him, especially after his recent passing. He trained with the rest of the assassin's in Crawley often driving George and his sister mad and causing his father to walk away shaking his head. In his mind, he gave his all. He was what the Creed needed to survive, to take the next step. Too long they had sat in silence and let the Templars do as they pleased. His methods were unorthodox but the only one yelling at him was Evie. And that has been the norm since they were children.

Jacob was pulled from his thoughts as the bar maid handed him his drink. They had slipped into one of the Queen's Pubs down the road from the fight club. He flashed the red head a smile and grasped the handle of his steel pint and allowed his gaze to follow the woman as she walked away. With an inward whistle he welcomingly gulped down the amber liquid. Margaret sat across from him her emerald corset standing out against the grimy red upholstery of their booth. Her lips were still pulled into a dazed smile with the lingering memory of the fight club. She was already itching to go back. She had become lost in the crowd, lost in the waves of people. No one seemed to care who or what she was. All that mattered was who was going to walk out of the ring alive or unscathed.

Her lips curled ever so slightly at the corners as she pulled her own pint to her lips.

They sat there in silence. Both lost in their thoughts and both absently studying the person before them.

"I am surprised you have never been to the ring before." Jacob broke the silence while placing his half empty mug onto the scarred table top. Margaret's head tilted to the side as her eyes challenged him to rethink his statement. The male shook his head with a laugh. "I meant in general not because of your line of work. For someone who gets paid to sleep with men you need to loosen up-OW!"

Margaret's lips corked into a satisfied grin which she hid behind worn steel as she attempted to cover up the fact she had dug the tip of her heel into Jacob's shine.

The gears in Jacob's skull began to turn his mouth parted in a crooked grin. With a snort and a shake of his head he decided to drop where that comment was going. He rubbed his shine with the back of his boot before slouching comfortably into the booth. The corners of his lips turned downward in a forced frown. "Now, that is no way to treat someone who may be offering to teach you how to fight."

The blonde started at him like a stray dog gawking at an oncoming carriage. She was expecting a witty comment to follow out how she was too delicate for the ring but it never came. Instead Jacob took her silence as interest and continued.

"There are plenty of female Rooks who I have helped learned how to handle themselves in a fight. We will exclude the guns and knives since they are not welcomed in the ring. If you trained hard enough I don't see why you couldn't tussle with a few mad men." He shrugged his shoulder before finishing the rest of his drink. Just in time for their fish and chips** to make it to the table. The man offered a quick thank you as his stomach growled in welcoming. "Besides if Evie can get into the ring anyone can do it." He finished while lazily waving a chip in Margaret's direction before tossing it into his maw.

The woman shook her head in disbelief. She lowered her cup onto the table and slowly pushed it away from her, as if worried she may drop it if it lingered to close. The only other time she had been offered help since she had made it into the city was when Henry found her on the streets. He did what he could and offered her food and a place to stay. But learning how to fight? She could defend herself; she could take care of herself. Margaret felt like her head was spinning. She placed her hand onto the table as her eyes studied the man before him.

"You would really teach me how to fight?" She questioned softly.

Jacob's chewing slowed and he found himself looking around the bar as if he had missed something. "If I have to repeat a statement maybe you're not ready for the ring."

As he went to grab another chip from his plate Margaret's hand reached out and wrapped around his gauntlet hand. Her soft blue eyes locked with his curious hazel, a small smile worked its way onto his lips as he registered the look of determination on the woman before him. Truthfully…Margaret had always been worried about handling her own. Before Henry came into her life and showed her any kindness she had no protection from the dangerous streets. He had offered to help her and has been watching over her in his spare time but what Jacob was offering was something new. She was more than willing to learn.

"Please teach me how to fight." The way she said it caused the hairs on the back of Jacob's neck to stand up.

He slipped his hand from under her grip and rolled his wrist to place his hand on top of hers. He gave hers a squeeze with a war smile. "You have my word, love."

Erstaunlich* - Amazing

Chips ** - Will be referring to a "French Fry". (Just making sure everyone is on the same page…)


End file.
